Life Choices

I call my sister “Retard” and my mom, “Momtard.” It seems to fit. Not because either of them are actually retarded, but because it helps to set the bar low. I don’t actually have a nickname because I never did much to raise the bar, let alone go anywhere near it. There’s also never been a lack of encouragement in my family, far from it. We were always encouraged, but it was tapered if anything. My mom would hang tests my sister failed on our bulletin board instead of the ones she passed. Partly because there’d be no room and also to keep her grounded to show her it’s okay if you don’t always do your best.

I on the other hand rarely did good or bad enough to make it near the board. My style of learning was of the “Good ‘Nuff” variety. I did everything I could to pass and little else. Some of the shit was just boring, I couldn’t care about hypotenuses and learning about the ancient Egyptians for the 15th time (in history and Bible classes, a double dose of me not giving a fuck). Since it was obvious I knew the material (except math, that I still struggle with - like 5th grade struggle) my parents just got frustrated but said it was my choice to apply myself or not. I made my choice, and thats why I’m writing.

Let my sister be the smart one.